Mother Nature stood at the door of her house, admiring the
magnificent world below her. Pearly clouds swirled, intertwining
with one another, casting fascinating shadows on the earth’s terrain.
The snow scattered over the mountains was beginning to thaw,
revealing the brown grasses that hid beneath them. Prince Winter’s
reign was over; he and my sisters were in desperate need of rest.
Spring was expected to arrive over the hill at any time with her three
beautiful children to visit Mother Nature.
The eldest of Springs’ three daughters was September. Her apron
was full of daffodils, daisies and lush stitched grasses that cascaded
gracefully down to the tight bow that sat just above her waist.
Octovia’s curly golden locks and rosy cheeks radiated warmth and
light over the cities. Lastly was young Novembre, her strawberry
blonde curls falling below her shoulders as she played tag with the
sunbeams and wandered knee deep in blossoms, humming softly to
the white birds that fluttered around her. The sisters’ beauty was
envied and admired by many.
Mother Nature beckoned to Baby June, the youngest of the
Winter children. As she hauled herself up besideme, dark, disheveled
hair covered her pale grey skin. June was utterly drained. Spring
never came, and with each passing day she grew weaker as her
emotions slowly began to consume her. Mother Nature took baby
June in her arms, ‘Spring will come dear, we must be patient.’ The
uncertainty in her voice made baby June frown; big tears chased each
other down her gaunt cheekbones, and plummeted to the earth,
washing the floors of the world. The rain never stopped. Baby June’s
tears only worsened the conditions we had created.
Spring’s daughters refused to awaken from their slumber,
drastically worsening the eternal Winter. It was past the changeover
time. The selfish ways of the Spring months have not only affected
us, but the earth we protect. The uncontrollable storms raged
through the atmosphere, and the sea of tears from baby June
continued to damage the earth. Her screams lashed out over the sky
in bright electrifying strikes, as sooty clouds growled and rumbled,
thrown about in the sky.
September and her sisters awoke to a chilly sensation that slowly
began to spread throughout their bodies. Octovia’s cheeks were
washed of their colour, as September’s daisies interwoven with the
daffodils began to wither. The overpowering scent of smoke filled